Team Two
by Alix Cohen
Summary: Team One begins recruiting a second set of Agents, using the same tricks that were used on them. Various pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**May 2011**

The first email was from Dana in Budapest: _Girls, it's time to recruit. Let's start with __Spain__, __Greece__, and America. One of you, one of them. Liz gives us two weeks to bring them in. Good luck!_

It was followed almost immediately by an email from Sarah. _Okay, Team One, you heard the boss. Skype at noon GMT today._

Team One met online that afternoon (or evening, since Amanda was in Tokyo). The conversation was mostly in the Pidgin, which Sarah had invented for precisely that purpose. Where the Pidgin lacked words, they used English.

"It's about time," Jeanne-Marie said, in response to Sarah's asking for her teammates' opinions.

Amanda agreed. "And she's given us Escorts we already know. It'll be easy for me to convince Laura to join us, next time Nihon-san visits Greece. And you have those movie nights with Rosa-san."

"What about me?" Jeanne-Marie protested. "I haven't met Spain's new Escort—"

Sarah cut her off. "You'll do fine. Fiery Parisian, jealous Castilian—and she will be, if she's ever even heard of Romano—you'll pull the same trick Dana did on me, and then you're fine. Now. We have two weeks to convince these girls to be our...what do we call them? Students?"

"Padawans?" Amanda suggested. Jeanne-Marie rolled her eyes, but Sarah looked thoughtful.

"Apprentices, maybe. Virgin word—needs a meaning..." Sarah scribbled a note somewhere below the screen. "So?"

"Let's do this," Amanda said, and Jeanne-Marie nodded.

...

**Three days later**

Carmen Ortiz now officially had a problem with her boyfriend. No, not really with her boyfriend; with her boyfriend's boyfriend.

Antonio had seemed like such a sweet, normal guy when they'd met two months ago in Madrid...energetic, eager to please, and _so_ handsome. But he'd lied to her. He'd told her he was single, promised he needed her...

And then she'd come to his house one afternoon, and the door was opened by a surly Italian with a bizarre cowlick and no shirt on.

"Is Antonio home?" she'd asked, and the stranger had called over his shoulder, "Hey, tomato bastard, your Escort's here!"

She'd been puzzled by this reaction, and even more so when Antonio hurried down the stairs and led her into the living room, glaring at the Italian as he passed. Antonio didn't glare. Something was wrong.

He'd apologized profusely for his "friend's" behavior, but now Carmen was suspicious, more so as his apology grew more frantic. "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?" she finally asked.

"Don't jump to conclusions, _querida_," he begged, too late.

"You said you needed me!"

"But I _do_! Look, it's time I told you the truth. I'm not who you think I am."

"No, you're not," Carmen scoffed.

"Really. I'm not just Antonio Carriedo de Fernandez. Look. Remember that time I explained World War Two to you as if the countries were people? That wasn't just a story. _I was there_. Well, not really _there_ there, I had a civil war going on and couldn't fight in the big one, but I was around!"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm Spain. The country. The Nation. Not just some diplomat. And you, querida Carmencita, are essential to my cover so—"

"Cover. Is that all?" It was certainly all Carmen had understood. "And who's _he_?" She pointed at the Italian, who was glowering at them from the foyer.

"Southern Italy. But that's politics! It's how the Nations work, Carmen, and it holds the world together! At least that's what Hungary says...come on, you have to believe me!" He grabbed her hand.

"No, not really," she said, pulling away and heading for the door.

...

"Well, _that_ was smooth, bastard," Romano smirked, leaning against the living room wall. Spain, on the verge of tears, ignored him. God, the man could be such an idiot! He certainly couldn't handle telling the truth about himself to a girl. Romano assured himself he'd never have that problem.

Spain slumped onto the couch, staring at his hand. "She...she was perfect, Romano. The best Escort I've ever...and she's gone."

"Shut up, Spain; it happens to everybody."

Romano's pocket vibrated. He slapped it, as if it were an insect, then he glanced around hurriedly to make sure no one had noticed (there was no one _to_ notice) and pulled his phone out.

He had a text, from an undisclosed number: _Comfort Spain. We'll take care of the Escort. EH/JMR_

Romano recognized the first set of initials: Elizaveta Héderváry. Hungary. The most perverted woman on the planet. He suspected she was lurking outside the house right now with a video camera. But even if she was...he could make the tomato bastard quit pining after a stupid human. And he'd be awesome at it. He'd be the best comfort-er ever. And he'd totally blow that bitch's twisted mind, because he'd be _that_ good.

He slid onto the couch, right next to Spain, and held the hand that Carmen had touched. "What's wrong, bastard? _I_ didn't leave."

...

Carmen stalked away from Antonio's house, not really watching where she was going. How dare that bastard lie to her? She deserved better than to be _cover_ for some—

"Yes, you do," said a voice behind her. Carmen whirled around, ready to give the bitch who'd interrupted her a piece of her mind.

But the blonde girl sitting at the little table outside the Starbucks was someone shed seen before. And she certainly knew who Carmen was.

"Hello, Carmen," the blonde said in French-accented Spanish. "It's Jeanne-Marie Renard. You know, Bonnefoy's girlfriend?" Carmen knew Bonnefoy; he was the sleazy French diplomat who was always getting too close to Antonio.

"What do _you_ want?"

"To help you with revenge," Jeanne-Marie said calmly. Carmen's jaw dropped. "Look, you just walked out on Antonio, am I right?" Carmen nodded. "And it was because you found out that he has a boyfriend, and he only keeps you around for politics, like a false beard." That didn't sound quite right to Jeanne-Marie, but she continued with what Sarah had told her to say.

"I've been in the same place as you. But I took control of the situation, and now, not only does Francois have to keep me, he's made me his most trusted advisor."

"And how did that happen?" Carmen was still cynical.

"Like this." Jeanne-Marie drew a small digital camera out of her purse. "Right now, Lovino—the boyfriend—is trying to comfort Antonio over the loss of a great political asset. That's you. He's trying very hard, if you know what I mean." She looked up in time to catch Carmen's shocked expression.

"This is where you come in. You'll take this camera and go back to the House. Make sure they don't see you (not that I expect them to notice). I want you to videotape them and bring the camera back here."

"And this will work?"

"Of course," Jeanne-Marie said. "It's the only thing that works with some of them."

Carmen was warming to the idea of revenge, but she was still suspicious. "What do _you_ want out of all of this?"

"Just a copy of the video. We can use it to blackmail him later."

Carmen stood for a moment, thinking; then she took the camera and stalked back toward Antonio's house. Jeanne-Marie watched her go; then she took her phone out of her purse. The transmitter in the camera was sending her Carmen's position; once she turned it on, it would send her video directly to both her and Dana.

Her viewing was interrupted briefly by a text from Sarah: _does France have a policewoman outfit in my size? Need Sat. for bet w/Iggy._

Jeanne-Marie texted her back: _Think so. Will bring it to you tomorrow._


	2. Chapter 2

_Two days later_

Japan had come to Athens on business (or so he would like to say, but...), and not even blinked when Amanda-chan had asked to come along. He knew what Hungary wanted. And though he'd never say it out loud, he knew Greece-san wouldn't care.

They arrived at Greece's House mid-afternoon, and were let in by his Escort, a quiet, nerdy girl named Karen Dimitriou. Amanda had worked out how to get her out of her shell, though; while Greece and Japan went upstairs to discuss the state of the European economy, the Escorts talked computers in English.

When Amanda felt the time was right, she steered the conversation toward surveillance. Then, as if suddenly feeling compelled to show off, she pulled out her phone and entered a string of commands.

"Have you ever considered," she said as she did so, "that with a 4G network and the right sort of mirror, a smoke detector can be turned into a hidden camera?"

Karen was impressed. "Which smoke detector?"

"The one in Herakles-san's bedroom."

"What for?"

Here was the tricky part. How was Amanda going to break it to her?

Then it hit her. This was Greece. This was perfect. "To watch the gods at work."

"Huh?"

"What can you tell me, in twenty words or less, about the ancient Greek gods?"

"Um, they were like really powerful humans, they lived on a mountain, they slept with mortal women, what do you want to know?"

"That's good," Amanda said. The seed of a plan in her head had put down roots. "Now what if the gods didn't go away when people stopped believing in them? What if they represented different things now, like countries? And—" here was the crucial first leaf— "what if you couldn't tell them apart from ordinary people? What if you lived with Zeus or Apollo? That would be awesome, wouldn't it?"

Karen seemed swept up by the idea. Then she frowned. "You tell a good story," she said. "It would be wonderful, to live with a god. But I couldn't stop him from sleeping around, I couldn't even be sure I was his favorite. Anyway, it's impossible—"

"Oh, it's far from impossible," Amanda laughed. "With that in mind, take a look at what the smoke detector is seeing."

Karen looked. And kept looking. "They must be the gods," she said finally. "There's no other way."

Amanda thought she understood. This was the only way she could justify it to herself, to keep from going crazy the way Sarah had before she joined the team.

Hey, if it worked, it worked.

* * *

><p>The following Saturday<p>

The season was half over, and it was a big deal. So Sarah had stocked up on jellybabies and tea, and texted Rosa that she should come over—oh, and bring Alfred too.

They came just before the episode started, and once it did, Sarah forgot about the plan for a while. The two Nations and their Escorts sat riveted for nearly an hour, and when it was over, the Jellybabies were almost gone, and Sarah was grinning.

"I win, Arthur," she said. "Now go put your skirt on."

"What, now?" England said.

"Yeah. That week starts tonight."

England got up and left the room, grumbling. "I love you too," Sarah called back cheerfully.

"What was that about?" Rosa asked.

"I bet him I knew who River Song was. I was right, so now he has to dress up as the Last Centurion every night this week."

America's eyes lit up. "Really? This I gotta see." He jumped off the couch and followed England.

"You go do that," Sarah called after him.

"So what would you have to do if he won?" Rosa asked.

"I'll tell you later. While they're gone, I have something much more important to tell you. Remember when I told you what Am—what Alfred does for a living?"

"Yes, you said he was a CIA agent."

"Well, that was a step closer to the truth. Alfred is something so secret that he can use the CIA as _cover_. And I think you're ready to find out what that is."

Rosa looked puzzled. "Wait..."

Sarah chuckled. "I know; what could possibly be more secret than spies, right? Well. You're not going to believe me right away, but over the next few days a bunch of your recent experiences will make a lot more sense."

"But what _is_ he?"

Sarah grinned. "Your boyfriend is the United States of America."

"…_what_?"

"You heard me right. Not really sure how; it's some sort of complicated metaphor that the Escorts haven't figured out. That's us, by the way—we take care of our Nations, appear with them at state functions, and just generally keep the populace from finding out what's really going on."

"The Nations. There are people...who are nations."

"Yep. Hang on; I'll bring them back." She turned towards the stairs and took a deep breath.

"ALFRED FITZGERALD JONES, get your ass down here!"

Silence from upstairs. "Is that his middle name?" Rosa asked, and then felt stupid.

She needn't have. "No; the F doesn't stand for anything. I just make shit up when I need to."

After another few seconds, they heard England's voice from upstairs. "Can it wait? His ass is a bit bloody preoccupied at the moment."

"Of course it can wait," Sarah called back. "You two go have some fun." She turned back to Rosa. "Or not," she said. "But now I can tell you why we call Arthur Iggy. It's short for England."

"England," Rosa echoed. Then the other thing Sarah had said hit her. "What do you mean, fun?"

Sarah lugged the tea tray into the kitchen and began explaining as she washed teacups. She wasn't sure where to begin, so it was a long, complicated explanation, involving history and sex and politics-but they're all the same thing, really, when it comes to Nations-and anecdotes about historical events ("The Hundred Years' War was England breaking up with France. He _still_ doesn't want to talk about it") and once, a lapse into a language that Rosa was sure she'd never heard before.

"That's the Pidgin, by the way; I'm inventing it, and you're going to learn to speak it, once I get you to Budapest in the morning."

"Budapest. That's in Hungary, right?"

"Precisely. Hungary's in charge of all this. I work for her, and starting tomorrow, so will you."

Rosa sank into a chair. "This is all happening so fast..." she said in Spanish.

Sarah grinned. "It usually does," she replied in the same language. "But I'd be more than happy to answer any questions you've got."

"Okay," said Rosa. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why me. Why now. Why I should believe you."

"Okay. In order. You, because you're here, and you're clever and caring, and Al's not gonna find another girl like you in fifty years at the very least. Now, because of most of that, and because Hungary says so. As for why you should believe me..." Sarah took a deep breath, and went on in English.

"Because you trust me, Rosa, and because right now my boyfriend is fucking your boyfriend, and it's keeping international relations stable, so what can you or I do about it? Besides, there are people relying on you now. Right now in Budapest, the rest of your team is waiting for you. You'll meet them tomorrow and start your training. And _that_'s what you can do about it. ¿_Me comprendes_?"

Rosa thought about it. Then she nodded. "I can do this."

"Excellent," Sarah said. "We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. I think if we go upstairs now we can steal the master bed!"

* * *

><p>As they passed the guest room at the head of the stairs, they heard some...unusual noises. Sarah stopped, listened intently for a moment, nodded as if someone had spoken to her, then whispered to Rosa. "Wanna watch? We can, you know, since we're...ah." She caught the look on Rosa's face and retreated. "Okay, maybe not yet. But we <em>are<em> allowed to, as Escorts." And required to, as Agents. But they would get to that later.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know "Iggy" comes from _Igirisu_; headcanon on that is America hangs out with Japan a lot and decided it sounded cool. Same with Italy and _Doitsu_, if I ever get around to using it.


	3. Chapter 3

Rosa awoke slowly. She'd had a bizarre dream: Alfred and Rory were about to have sex, and she and Amy were watching. Amy handed Rosa a camera and told her to "make the most of it." And then she was awake and in bed, with Alfred's arm flung across her, and—

And then she saw Sarah and Arthur, both naked, curled up together at the edge of the bed, and wondered what the hell had happened last night.

Sarah opened one eye, noticed her house guests, and seemed to wake up fully. "Morning, Rosa," she said, sitting up against the pillow and making no move to cover herself. "Sleep well?"

"Um, I think so..." Rosa looked down at herself. She was wearing her nightgown. "Did I..."

Sarah shook her head lazily. "No. Al offered...but you didn't want to, and he didn't have the energy for it anyway." She leaned forward and climbed off the foot of the bed. "Let's go see what damage they've done."

Rosa followed her. As they passed Alfred's side of the bed, he stirred. "Rosa?" he muttered.  
>Sarah knelt beside him. "It's all right, Al," she said. "She's going with me, to see Hungary."<p>

"Hungary..." Alfred echoed. "Stay out of trouble. Don't want to have to save..." and he drifted off again. England didn't move. Sarah chuckled.

* * *

><p>The girls went into the bedroom that was technically Sarah's, and where she'd put Rosa's suitcase the night before.<p>

"So where exactly are we going?" Rosa asked as she hunted for socks.

"Budapest," said Sarah, pulling a green tank top over her head. "Hungary's capital."

"When does our flight leave?"

"What flight?" Sarah laughed. Zipping up her jeans, she turned to face Rosa. "Seriously, have you ever thought about how you and Alfred got here?"

"...we drove?" said Rosa as she put on a T-shirt.

"Yes. You drove. From Chicago to London. Have you ever stopped to consider how that works?"

"Um..." Come to think of it, she had wondered the first time, but then she'd gotten caught up in _Doctor Who_, and other things, and forgotten to ask. After that it had become almost normal.

"Nations can do things humans can't. As an Escort, you'll get to learn one or two of them. Including how to walk from London to Budapest." She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and left the room. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Hungary will have breakfast waiting for us," Sarah said when they reached the kitchen. "I'm just leaving a note for England." She pulled a stack of Post-its out of a drawer, scribbled on the top one, then left the stack on the table. "He'll see it there. Onward."<p>

Rosa glanced at the note as she passed the table.

_England—taking Rosa to __Budapest__. Back by dinner. Sarah_

_PS She'll ask again. Changed your mind?_

"What did you mean, 'changed your mind?'" Rosa asked as they left Arthur's house and stepped into the street.

"I'll tell you later. Hold my hand." Rosa did. "Run."

They ran, and the world moved.

* * *

><p>Omake: Tuesday night<p>

The car pulled up to France's house, and England got out. He looked back awkwardly at Sarah, who grinned, blew him a kiss, and drove away.

France answered his knock almost immediately. "My dear Arthur! So _pleased_ you could make it...what_ever_ are you wearing? You know that skirt hasn't been in style for nearly two thousand years!"

England rolled his eyes. "I lost a bet with my Escort," he sighed. "Oh, and I'm supposed to give this back." He pulled a garment bag out of his pocket-space and handed it to France, who draped it over his own arm and stood back to let England in.

"Don't be embarrassed," France said, grinning. "I'll have you out of it in no time. You really must thank your Escort for me..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Aaand Hungary now has her latest round of recruits. Thanks for sticking with this one; and don't forget to check out the poll on my profile page, to help choose which Yaoi Agents story I'll write next!


End file.
